Sophia Pt. 03

At the dance club, Eva came by frequently. At one point she asked me what I did and I told her that I was a maintenance man at an apartment complex. That was fun! She seemed to be taken aback for awhile and Vanessa was really amused. However, suddenly towards the end of the evening, she was back again at our table, all smiles and cheerful banter. When Vanessa got up to use the ladies room, Eva asked me for my phone number and I reluctantly gave her my cell phone number; I should have been thrilled, but there was something about the woman that just made me uncomfortable. She, in return, handed me a card with her home phone number, cell number and email address. She pressed it into my hand, holding my hand far longer than necessary. Vanessa returned to our table quickly and I was relieved; that had to have been the fastest pit stop I had ever seen a woman make. I nervously decided not to tell her about exchanging phone numbers with Eva.

………………………….…………

Another wonderful weekend at my mountain home, this time I insisted that Don do absolutely no kitchen work. He could bring up dessert type stuff that he had already cooked, but other than eating he had to keep his butt out of my kitchen. Lucille's leg was all better and she came by to help out (of course I paid her, but she is still a friend).

Carl was there for all the meals too, and he brought his home brew that Don likes so much. Carl started talking about teaching Don how to hunt.

We even convinced Lucille to stay for our Saturday night movies, and she had a piece of THE PIE, which of course led to two more pieces. I think she is planning on divorcing Carl now and marrying Don.

………………………………….………

Thursday night I didn't have a date so I had time to give Barbara a call.

"Barbara, it's Don, do you have time to talk?" I don't know if I could ever be polite to her in person, but over the phone we try to be nice as possible to each other. Having arguments every time we talk wouldn't help with all the necessary communication required for raising our two daughters.

"Of course Don, anytime for you."

"Barbara, if you can I would like you to keep Megan and Robin with you for Friday night and Saturday, perhaps the whole weekend. Would that be okay?"

"Don, I would love to have our girls for the weekend. I could take them on a weekend trip if that is okay with you. But why, you know that they will be disappointed?"

"One of my friends is being cheated, and I'm going to bring the affair to light. I don't expect any trouble, but since there is a lot of money involved I would rather be safe than sorry. So, for the next couple weeks let's be especially vigilant with our babies. I don't think the villains are the sort to resort to violence, but if they do I want to make sure that it lands on my head and not anyone else's."

"Are you going to be safe?!!"

"I'm sure I am and I'm probably just being overly paranoid and melodramatic, but I just like to play things safe."

After a bit more talk she was reassured and started planning for the weekend. I then gave Megan a call on her cell phone and spoke with both her and Robin. They were a lot harder to convince because they wanted to see the action, but I was firmly committed to keeping them safe and eventually they conceded the fight. I had to extract a promise from them not to contact Maria or any of our new friends about the matter; I wanted to keep them safe too.

Friday, I took the entire day off and went to visit the Seattle Police. They in turn called in the FBI since it also involved activity in Japan. The local DA made an appearance, too. They were excited at all the evidence that I had put together with the two private detectives that I had hired. Not to belittle either the local police or the FBI, but I got the impression that what had them so excited was that they thought this investigation would generate some good press for them. I wasn't even sure if a real crime had been committed. I was positive that I had enough evidence for a civil suit, though. The law enforcement officials gathered there started muttering things about "False Pretenses" and "Conspiracy to Defraud". The end result of my spending the entire day with them was that the Seattle Police had decided to tap all of Mister Harris' phones and for Saturday night I would be wearing a wire.

Early Saturday afternoon, as I got dressed at my apartment in my new navy suit, the Seattle detectives helped with the wire. With a new suit on and a hidden listening device installed I was beginning to feel like "James Bond"; not any of the new ones, more like a Sean Connery "Bond, James Bond". Actually, I was probably more like a Roger Moore "Bond"; his version had always struck me as being more of a smart ass. Now, if I only had the proper hat, I could even be "John Steed of the Avengers". Ooh, I'd really like to be him, with "Mrs. Emma Peel" in her skin tight leather body suit, Grrruff! I started imagining Maria in a leather body suit - too bad it was only a fantasy. I was permitting myself to fantasize about Maria again since she seemed to be acting a little warmer toward me lately, but that was all.

All my friends met me at my apartment later that afternoon to go to Freddie's showing. I made sure I had the Japanese investigator's report translated by Sato-san, and the report from a local PI that I had hired; she had said that it was a nice change from all the domestic work she normally was involved in. I put both reports in a new leather document case, just to look more professional. One must be sure to keep up appearances, after all! Now I just needed a Walther automatic, but I would probably end up shooting myself in the foot with it. I had some nice surprises for my friends and I was really looking forward to springing them.

When they arrived they all got out of their vehicles to talk in the parking lot in front of my apartment; they were expecting that Maria would drive all of us to the showing.

Maria walked up to me and asked, "Are you ready to go, Don?"

"Oh beauteous and most fair damsels, alas there must be a change of plans."

Freddie immediately got an evil looking grin and excitedly yelled out, "He's up to something! What's in the case, Don?"

"Freddie, it goes like this. Your Mister Harris, as you might guess, is a no good skunk. Besides smelling really bad, it turns out that he was one of the slimy bastards who did my ex-wife a few times in the past. I've got some plans for him and I don't want any of the fallout to land on you." Actually I didn't give a shit what that asshole had done with Barbara years ago; I just wanted to protect Freddie. If I made a big enough scene about him doing my ex-wife, then hopefully he would focus any plans for revenge on me, rather than looking anywhere else.

"You already told me how he has threatened to ruin Madeline if she doesn't permit him to attend tonight. Well, I am positive I have a way to take him down instead. The only problem is if it looks like we know each other, then before his career is totally in the bucket he might try to derail yours out of vindictiveness."

"There is no way that putz can hurt me, so you all have to pretend you don't know me, no matter what happens, and just enjoy the show. Freddie, I can absolutely guarantee that this will not harm your showing and I'm 99% sure that it will help both yours and your friends' artistic careers. Please trust me, okay? If I'm wrong I will become your personal cooking and baking slave for life." The last sentence seemed to dramatically startle Maria. Mmmm, Maria in a tight leather body suit! Stop it, Steed!

It took a bit of arguing back and forth but Freddie and everyone else finally agreed to do things my way and we drove separately to the gallery, being sure that we didn't arrive at the same time.

When I arrived at the gallery I made sure to ingratiate myself with Madeline and I firmly impressed on her that I was there to buy that evening. The art work on display had asking prices from fifteen hundred to five thousand dollars, about the same as at the last showing, which Harris had sabotaged. I waited patiently, sipping wine and wishing I were drinking one of the beers that Carl had left for me. Mister Harris had to appear for it to be showtime.

At seven-thirty my arch-nemesis arrived. If one is a spy one must use the proper terminology, right? As I had expected, he did a quick walk through of the gallery assessing the various pieces and then immediately began vocally criticizing the best works there. If he could successfully malign the best, none of the patrons would be interested in the lesser pieces.

Harris started speaking to a group of people in front of one of the best paintings. In my opinion, that particular piece was the best in the show, and it was done by Freddie. It was a magnificent painting of a wind jammer at dawn with a storm raging, and clearly the ship had been fighting it all night long but was still afloat. I wanted it, and buying it would tick of Harris.

Harris began speaking, "The artist tried but didn't really……"

I immediately spoke up over his voice, "Madeline, this painting is only five thousand dollars? If that is accurate I would like to buy it right now. Please put a sold label on it, if you would be so kind."

"Yes, Donald, only five thousand, it is quite a steal, isn't it? And I've got a label right here with my clipboard." Harris immediately had an angry expression settle on his face as he tried to counter, "That man is making a severe mistake," as he walked off to the next painting. There was a blonde haired man a few years older than I, who also seemed angry at my purchase and, it seemed, at his wife too. Well, if you snooze, you lose.

I followed Harris to the next painting. "The colors here are so….."

"Madeline, is this true the painting is only forty-five hundred dollars?"

"Yes, Donald, you must understand that while he is a brilliant artist he is relatively unknown, so until his reputation gets established his artwork will be quite the bargain."

"I want it; please put another label on it for me."

I smiled at Madeline and then turned to meet Harris' furious glare with my "I'm going to tear your fucking nuts off and make you eat them" face. It seemed to unsettle him for some reason and he hurried off to the next painting. He didn't seem to have as many followers this time. But I had quite a crowd following me just to see what I would do next. I was purposely not looking at my friends, but I did get a quick look at Freddie and her was face was completely white; it took both Vanessa and Kathy to hold her back, and those two had big SEGs (shit eating grins LOL) plastered across their faces. Maria, on the other hand, was looking at me like she was a disapproving mother and I was a bad boy. Well, you ain't seen nothing yet, sister!

The next painting was another one of Freddie's. I was hoping that it would be one of Alice's. I liked this painting, but I really wanted to purchase a painting from all three of the artists this evening.

We went through the same routine and I got the painting for forty-two hundred. By this time I had finally succeeded in goading Harris into verbally attacking me. I just hoped that he would physically attack me, too; I wanted to punch his lights out in the worst possible way.

"What do you think that you are doing, you fool?"

"Well, the same thing that you are doing, or rather what you have done time and time again, and will no doubt try to do again. I'm buying a beautiful piece of artwork and making a huge profit on it. Your con is to come here with your mighty reputation as an art critic, disparaging these wonderful pieces. Your reputation is such that even when other people like the paintings, they are reluctant to buy for fear of appearing to be a fool. The paintings don't sell and the struggling artists, needing to eat, are forced to reduce the asking prices. You then send in your front men and women to purchase paintings for mere hundred of dollars that should sell for tens of thousands of dollars. Then you send the artwork to your sister, Olivia Harris, in Japan, where she displays it and asks for a far more accurate amount of money for them. I believe that Ms. Freddie Hanson's painting of a clipper ship in an evening storm that you bought at a steal, sold for almost thirty-five thousand dollars about six months ago. I was shocked to learn your sister has the effrontery to represent herself as these artists' official representative in Japan. Do you have any other questions?"

"You can't prove any of this!"

"Oh, but I can. Madeline, Ms. Hanson, Ms. Simons, and Mr. Ratthe could you please come here? I've got copies of two reports for you. One is from a private detective in Japan, and the other is from one I hired locally. I think you might very well have grounds for a civil case against Mr. Harris. Madeline, I've also got copies of the report in plastic sheet protectors; you might want to put these out so your patrons can view them and decide if my allegations are valid. You might be reluctant do it right now because of legal reasons, but if anyone is interested I've already posted these reports on my website and I have some business cards with the address. Just ask me for a card if you want."

"Why are you doing this?"

"My name is Don Hendricks, which probably won't mean anything to you, according to my private detective, but I'm just one of the many victims of your sexual predations. Four years ago you met my wife and, over the course of two months, you seduced her and got to know her very well, in the biblical sense, and ruined our marriage. She is, of course, now my ex-wife because of you. Paybacks are a bitch, Mister Harris!" Dead silence had descended on the audience that had gathered around us as I cut him down to size.

All the color drained from Harris' face as he turned and fled the gallery. I was quite disappointed; I was really hoping he would threaten to sue me for defamation of character or something like that. What a weasel.

Madeline began speaking to the audience, "Ladies and gentlemen, dear patrons of my gallery, in light of this revelation and until I can verify what is truly going on, there will be no more sales of any artwork this evening. These hard working artists deserve the financial rewards of their endeavors; it is quite likely that the value of their artwork, locally, has been criminally manipulated. I must take the time to reevaluate the pricing of these pieces. I am sorry if you are disappointed, again my apologies. For your information, what Mister Harris did at least year's showing, did considerable harm to Alice's and Ben's financial status and security. In perhaps as little as two weeks I might have another display of their artwork, or perhaps I might try overseas sales of their artwork, depending on the reaction of our local market. Thank you for your time."

Crafty lady, an implied threat there, either pony up some cash or I will sell our locally produced, and it now seems famous, artwork in Japan.

The show went on for another two hours, and almost every one there asked me for a business card. During the evening the wife of the blonde haired man came up to me and asked if I would sell Freddie's painting of the wind jammer to her. Her husband had seemed furious at my revelations. I just had to shake my head at her, I don't buy too many things for their sheer beauty, but when I do, I hang on to them. I was very pleased with all three paintings I had bought. I was only sorry that Harris had cracked after only three purchases. There was one more of Freddie's that I really liked, and one of Alice's that was pretty sweet too.

I was at the door when the gallery was closing for the evening. I needed to stay to get my paintings. Freddie was going nuts with the desire to confront me, but she was held back by her friends. There was fire in her eyes and I thought she might kill me when they let her go.

Just before they left, I heard the blonde haired man talking furiously with his wife while she had her face focused on the floor. "Last year I wanted desperately to buy that clipper ship painting, but no, you insisted I had to wait for Harris' opinion. You even threatened me and called me a child. You heard that Hendricks man; that painting sold for thirty-five thousand dollars! This year I said the hell with it and was firm in my conviction to buy the wind jammer painting, but again you pulled that same stunt. You even threatened to take the children for a long stay at your mother's. Now we find out that Harris is a con man, a thief, and a womanizer. I know that you've been spending almost all of your free time with the city's local fine art groups and Harris makes frequent appearances with them. Both this year and last year you seemed to hang on to his every word. Hendricks said that Harris is a serial predator of married woman and I've got to wonder about you, with your shining eyes and your flushed face when he came close. Well, you've got your wish, you are going for a long stay at your mother's, but not with the children, while I figure out what the hell is going on. Maybe that report of Hendricks has some clues. As for you screwing up my chances of getting some fine artwork for my office, well I like this Hanson woman's work and her prices are probably going through the roof. You know that new car you wanted this year? That ain't happening. And another………" as they walked out the door.

Finally everyone one was gone and Madeline locked the doors. I turned to Freddie as Kathy and Vanessa let her go. I closed my eyes waiting for her to hit me. It surprised and shocked me when she jumped up, wrapped her arms around my neck, wrapped her legs around my waist, glued her lips to mine and somehow pried my mouth open with her tongue. Next to Maria's friendly kiss this was the best one I have ever had, hold it Freddie's got her legs wrapped around my waist that adds style points, the judges give Freddie full tens, and my tongue goes wild. We kissed for only a couple of minutes, but it sure felt longer than that.

She finally pulled her head back to breathe and began, "I ought to kill you, but thank you, thank you, thank you for bringing that asshole down!" Maybe further down than she thought, the Seattle Police and the FBI were going to be busy gathering evidence against Harris. In fact, I had forgotten something - my wire was still active. As soon as I had a chance I would have to excuse myself and turn the bloody thing off. They probably weren't recording anymore, I hoped, and had already told me that if things went smoothly I could just return it to the police station on Monday. Madeline, Ben and Alice thanked me profusely for my actions. Vanessa was hanging back with Maria, while Kathy was gesticulating furiously at Freddie who was still hanging on to me with her legs wrapped around my waist. I hope there's enough slack in my suit coat to hide the ship's belaying pin that was growing there!

Finally Freddie let go and I excused myself to hit the men's room (actually they only had one shared bathroom). On the way I picked up a large glass of ice water at the bar that had been setup for the invited guests. When I entered the bathroom I locked the door, undid my shirt and disconnected the listening device. When that was done I put it in my suit coat pocket, much more comfortable there. Then I unzipped my fly and took out my treacherous first mate Petey; Petey had been a bad pirate and it was time to keel haul him and get him under control. Taking the large glass of ice water, I stuck him in. Mentally I screamed. "Yah, yah, yah, yah, Oooooooeehhe" The Titanic met the iceberg and the Titanic lost. Oh yeah, the ladies were doing a wonderful job undorking me!